


The Legend of The Hero of Oakvale

by AceGrace



Series: Lee's Fable Verse [1]
Category: Fable (Video Games)
Genre: Adventure, Ass-Kicking, Chicken Kicking, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Emotionally Repressed, Fantasy, Gen, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Rivalry, Tragedy, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-02-11 23:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2086836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceGrace/pseuds/AceGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up in the Hero's Guild where you get no sympathy for seeing your entire village get killed can cause problem to one's emotional development. Follow Barron the chicken chaser on his path to greatness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Childhood

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Fable and all it's characters belong to their rightful owners.

_Deep in the forest of Albion lay the small village of Oakvale, unchanged by time and untouched by sword. Here lived a boy and his family. A boy dreaming of greatness. Of one day being a hero. Sometimes he imagined himself as a noble knight… Or a powerful wizard. And other times he dreamt  he’d be an evil warrior. But in all his dreams of greatness he could not possibly imagine the power of destiny that lay before him._

****  
  


“Come on, wake up!” Shouted a father, Brom, to his young brown haired boy. The boy, who had been resting on the stoop of the house, awoke from his musings with a start. As he looked up at his father with sleepy grey eyes the man said, “Daydreaming again, were you? Just like your mother, mind always wandering.”

As the boy stood his father added on, “Well, let it wander off and find your sister, will you?”, which caused the boy to sigh in annoyance. Despite noticing this the man continued on with a smile, “She’s out playing by the Barrow Fields gate. Remember, you haven’t given her a birthday present yet.”

Now fully awake the boy let out a nervous laugh, “Um… You see, about that…” With an amused grin the man said, “Don’t tell me you forgot to get her one?” The only reply the father got was his son scratching the back of his head.

“Well I’m not bailing you out this time, son.”

“B-but Father, I don’t want to sadden her!” Shouted the boy,

With another chuckle Brom said, “Hmm, I’ll tell you what Barron, I’ll give you a gold piece for each good deed you do around Oakvale. Now get moving and stay out of trouble.”

Enthusiastically Barron proclaimed, “I shall do my very best!”

As father and son parted ways Barron couldn’t help but wonder just what he would do to get those gold pieces. You see, Barron could think of many things he could do to get money, most of which his father would most certainly not approve of. As our young friend strolled along trying to find something his father would actually approve of he heard the faint sound of crying. Curiosity taking the reins from his semi-productive train of thought, he followed the noise. Eventually he happened upon a girl who, much like Barron himself was earlier, sitting on the stoop of her house. However, unlike Barron, her eyes were red and puffy as she continued to sob into her hands.

“What is wrong, m’lady?” Barron asked in his best gentleman voice. His father had always told him to be kind to woman. “Chivalrous” is the word Barron thought the man used.

Looking up with a tear stained face the girl cried, “I’ve lost Rosie! I left her and I can’t remember where.” Reaching out to grab Barron’s hand she begged, “Her stuffing needs changing today and I can’t find her! Please help!” Now that her face wasn’t buried in her hands Barron could recognize her as Emily, a girl he often saw around the village.

Happily Barron said “Alright miss Emily, I’ll help! I am your senior by three whole years, what with being eleven and all! But what does this “Rosie” look like?”

Much less upset now that she knew someone was going to help her she smiled and said, “She’s a lovely little furry bear with a blue patch on her back.”

“Alright Princess Emily, your Knight Barron shall return to you the royal bear!”, Barron shouted boisterously as he ran off in search of the teddy bear, which caused Emily to let out a wonderfully joyous laugh. “Good luck, brave knight!”, she giggled as he disappeared from sight.

As Barron searched he did a number of things.Such as looking through the contents of multiple wagons, lifted up rocks, kicked a chicken, snuck into a house and then snuck back out among other things. Yet he hadn’t seen head or tail of Rosie. As he walked down a path he couldn’t help but feel mildly disappointed that the bear hadn’t turned up with. He continued to walk while he tried to think where in the village the bear could be when he heard voices from behind a building he had nearly passed. Once again curiosity took over and he followed a small trail to the back of the house and peaked over the side. What Barron saw didn’t surprise him.

“Oh, come here my little sandgoose.” Orwin Gown said as he pecked a young blonde woman on the lips. In merry reply the woman said, “You are just too much. So naughty!” Barron only shook his head. Despite his age the boy knew full well what Orwin Gown was, a lecher. Hell, the entire village knew. Deciding that he felt bad for the man’s wife Barron made his way towards the Gown household. Luckily the house wasn’t to far and he made it there on record time. Before Barron could even get to the door to knock Corina, Orwin’s wife came bounding out of the small house, anger clear on her face.

As she looked around at the town folk the woman shouted, “Where’s that filthy layabout husband of mine? Hmmph, with some woman I don’t doubt!” Barron only watched as the woman ranted to herself, waiting to be noticed.

Stomping her foot the woman said, “I run his house, bring up his kids, and what do I get in return? Nothing!” Finally she noticed Barron and leaned down so that they were eye to eye, “Have you seen that bastard young Barron?”

“Yeah, actually I have. He was with Misses Beverly behind her house. Called her a “sandgoose” whatever that means.”

“You have?” Corina said with surprise in her voice, although her face indicated otherwise. Pushing up her sleeves she said, “Right, I’m going to turn him into Balverine food!” Before running off Corina thanked him for telling her. Once she was out of site Barron briefly wondered if he should sneak into the woman’s house to find Rosie but decided against it. The bear wouldn’t be silly enough to be placed in there, right?

Suddenly Barron heard someone shout from afar, “Come get your miscellaneous items!”

Curiosity once again taking reign our friend made his way back through the village square and towards the yelling man. The man immediately noticed him and said, “Hello, lad! I’m a trader, I wander the world buying and selling wares, especially to fine folk like your good self.”

With a smile the trader said, “Some little girl told me that you have a sister, and that it’s her birthday.” With a cocked eyebrow the man continued, “And it seems that you haven't gotten her a present yet. It just so happens that I have a rather nice box of sweets here. Guaranteed to put a smile on any sister’s face, for only three gold pieces.”

“I don’t have any money yet.” Barron said glumly.

“Hmm.. maybe later than. But hurry up or I might eat them myself!.”, the man said with a chuckle. “Remember three gold coins. That’s all it costs.” With a determined not Barron struck out again causing the man to chuckle once more.

As Barron walked he wondered what he could do next, “Well… Getting the lecher in trouble counts as a good deed, right? I know making Emily happy would count as one too; I just have to find Rosie!” When Barron encountered a fork in the path he looked down each path wondering which one he should take. As he turned to look down the path to his right a man came running up to him.

Frantically the man said,  “Oh, thanks goodness. Listen, lad, could you do me a favor?”

Tilting his head Barron asked, “Eh, what kind of favor?”

Embarrassed the man said, “I’ve got to… er, you know, answer the call of nature.”

Before Barron could choose whether or not to do as the man said the gentleman had run off telling him to, “Stay here and watch the stock for me, there’s a good lad. Just stand between those two stacks and don’t move!” Deciding he didn’t have much choice our young friend sat himself between the stacks of crates. It was here that a younger boy, about Emily’s age, ran up to him.

With a giggle the boy said, “My cousin says that the barrels in these warehouses might have stuff in them. Quick! While he’s away, smash his barrels so we can see what’s inside! Unless you’re to scared. Unless you’re a big blubbing girl!” The only response that Barron gave the younger boy was a glare. “I can’t disappoint my father.” He told the boy bluntly.

Not taking the hint the boy continued to try and convince Barron to break things for him. Saying things like, “Come on, let’s go and break stuff!”, or “Are you just going to stand there like a lemon?”, and “But isn’t being good boring?”

Barron stayed strong however. Eventually the man came back which caused both Barron to let out a sigh of relief and make it so the younger boy shut his bleedin trap. Thankful the man said, “Excellent! Thanks, lad. You’ve done me a big favour. I’ll let your dad know what a splendid watchman you are.”

As Barron walked off he noted that he still had to find Rosie. Wandering around town he eventually made his way back to the fork in the road when he heard a voice coming from the area he hadn’t looked through yet, “Stupid little idiot!”

As he made his way towards the ruckus a boy ran through a nearby clearing and tripped in front of Barron. Leaning down Barron asked, “You alright?” The boy only looked at him with a dirt smeared face and sniffed. Suddenly the voice from before rang out, “There you are!”, as a blonde boy who could be no older than Barron’s sister came out of the clearing. Angrily the older boy said, “Now give me that damned bear so I can rip it’s bleedin head off!” It was at that moment did Barron realize the smaller boy was clinging to bear… with a blue patch in it. Happily Barron thought to himself, “I’ve finally found Rosie!”

Desperate the still fallen boy looked up at Barron and begged, “Keep him away! Please help! He goes around the town beating up anyone smaller than him. But you look strong. I bet you could scare him off for good!”

“Eh? What are you saying to him you little pest?”, the blonde said as he stalked closer. Quickly Barron got between the boys and puffed out his chest. “What? You think your tough or something? Alright then, try this on for size!”, he shouted as he punched Barron in the face nearly knocking him over. Barron however recovered quickly and tackled the boy to the ground. Barron then proceeded to throw rather merciless punches as the older screamed, “It hurts!”, over and over. Luckily for the older boy he managed to get out from under Barron and promised, “I’m sorry! I’ll leave him alone. Just please don’t hit me again!”, before running off.

Adoringly the small boy looked up at Barron and said, “Thank you! You stopped him good! Thank you.” The boy then shoved the teddy bear into Barron’s hands and said, “Here I’ll let you look after Rosie, she’ll be safe with you!”

As quick as he could Barron ran back towards town square. Once he got there he proceeded up the hill that both his and Emily’s families lived on. With Rosie behind his back Barron walked up to Emily, who was still sitting on the stoop of her house. With a smile he brought Rosie into Emily’s attention with a loud “Tada!” Gasping in joy Emily said,”You found Rosie! Thank you so much!” Before heading into her house Emily gave Barron a great big hug. “Come on Rosie, let’s go change your stuffing...”

Excited that he had succeeded in his goal Barron ran all the way home. When he entered his house he saw his father by the pot brewing some food. Excitedly he shouted, “Father! Father! I did good just like you said!”

“I heard, the Warehouseman came over and told me what a good little watchman you were.” Brom said with a smile as he steered the stew. “However that sounds like only a single good deed so you only get one gold coin.”

“But father I did more than just that! I got Lecher Gown in trouble for flirting with a woman,”

“Is that what all that ruckus was about?” The man said with a bemused expression.

“And I helped Emily find her teddy!” Barron said excitedly.

“Well… Yes, I suppose that those do count as good deeds a well.” Brom agreed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out three gold pieces. “Now go get your sister that present, will you?”

“Yes, sir!”, Barron shouted as he ran out of the house and down towards the trader. “Mr.Trader! Mr.Trader! The chocolates please!” He shouted as approached the man.

With a smile the man said, “You’re lucky I still got these sweets. Quickly. Give me three pieces now and they’re yours.” Barron swiftly handed the man the coins and in exchange he was given the box of chocolates. “Young sir, they’re yours. Wish your sister a happy birthday from me now, won’t you?” Barron nodded and then ran towards the Barrow Fields. Once there he passed by several crop fields until he came by a recently harvested one. In this field his sister, Theresa was “dancing” with a scarecrow. Her red hair was, as always, tied up into two separate pigtails. Today however, she was dressed in rather nice clothing.

“Theresa!”, Barron called as he walked up to his elder sister, the box of chocolates well hidden behind his back. “Hello, little brother.” The sixteen year old greeted. Teasingly she said, “I hope you haven’t forgotten what today is, like you did last year.” Embarrassed Barron shook his head so fast he could have given himself whiplash.  Theresa laughed a little but then her face went grim, “”I’m sorry if I woke you last night. It was another of those dreams. I was standing in this field when something happened, but I can’t remember what.”

Noticing the odd look Barron was giving her she smile and said, “Never mind that though. I’m still waiting for my present!” With a large grin Barron pulled the box of chocolates out with a big grin, “Tada!”

Theresa gasped, “I knew you were going to bring me chocolates. It’s just like my dream. Come on, let’s go home. Mother will be back for my party any minute now!” Barron nodded and headed towards the entrance of the field. As soon as he stepped foot onto the dirt path was when the most horrible thing he’d ever witnessed happened.

“Wait!” Theresa shouted towards her bother, “there’s something wrong…”

Suddenly a man ran into the village and screamed “Bandits!” in attempt to worn the townsfolk. As he neared Barron an arrow penetrated his chest, splattering some blood onto his face and shirt. Barron could do nothing more but stand as still as a statue.

Terrified Theresa said, “It’s really happening… They’re here! You have to hide!” Snapping out of his state of petrification Barron quickly ran into a nearby patch of thick forest. For hours the boy was forced to silently sit there as he heard the bloodcurdling screams of his fellow villagers. Hugging his knees together and trying to slow his breathing so that he wouldn’t be found.

_Yes, evil had come to Oakvale. Bandits wielding torches and steel, slaying all who stood in their path. Blood-red flames lit the night as the villagers screamed and begged for mercy, and soon their bodies filled the streets. Then the raiders reached the last house. where the boy and his family lived. It was them that they had slaughtered so many to find._

__

_The father fought to protect his kin but, he was no warrior, and fell mortally wounded. The bandits ripped the house apart but could not find the boy. Through torture and threats his mother and sister remained  silent, and their furious attackers took them both._

  
_From the nearby woods, the boy watched as all he knew was taken away, his whole life was crushed to ashes. He was alone._


	2. Lost In Flame

As the horrid flames in the village left by the bandits consumed the town they began to creep ever so slowly into the forest. That slowness however did not last. As soon as the flame connected to the root of one tree it climbed into the treetops and extended it’s ever destructive grip throughout the entire forest. Barron, having no other choice, searched for a way out of what had seconds ago been his sanctuary. With his lungs grasped tightly by the smoke he weaved through the burning labyrinth of pines and oaks. Never had Barron imagined the smell of burning wood as anything but the times with his family. Now a once fond memory will be tainted for as long as he lives.

Finally making it to the now scorched dirt road the young boy looked at the two paths that had once been given to him. The first was blocked, made inaccessible by a wall of flame. The second, while on fire, was the bridge. Climbing up the hills path to the bridge he had once played on with the other children he thought of one thing, his family. Yes, while most people would have ran away from the burning town Barron ran towards it. Hoping that someway, somehow his family was alive.

Dead bodies littered the hill. The fear of seeing the burnt and stabbed bodies that once held so much life within their eyes motionless on the ground only caused the boy to close his own eyes and run faster as he entered the bridge, tears streaming down his face. 

When he opened his eyes again he was at his home, and just like everything else he once held dear it was set ablaze. Once he finally turned his eyes away from the horrid scene fate made them lay their sight on another. There, laying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, was Brom.

Silently Barron walked towards his father in disbelief. No longer able to stand from the feelings of both denial and despair the boy collapsed next to his father letting out a loud anguished scream as he sobbed into his father’s now cold chest. The poor boy was not given any time to grieve however. Hearing a monstrous scream Barron looked up only to see a bandit charging at him with an ax as he laughed with maniacal glee. 

Once again shocked into petrification Barron watched the man run towards him. However, just as Barron’s mind allowed him to realize he was going to die a strange bluish-purple energy hit the bandit from behind and electrified the masked man. When the murderous person fell and collapsed a new person came into view. He was old, dark skinned, and had white hair. Despite this hint of normalcy he was terrifyingly peculiar as parts of his face was illuminated with powerful blue markings. 

Walking towards Barron the man said in a cold voice, “We must leave. It’s not safe here.”

“They’re all dead.” The man said. As if Barron didn’t know. As if he didn’t just witnessed the massacre of his entire village. As if it wasn’t his own father laying dead right next to him. Barron scowled, got to his feet, and ran over to the man. As soon as he could he threw punch after punch with so much rage that the poor boy failed to see how entirely ineffective they were against the man. The man grabbed the screaming Barron by the shoulder and shook him slightly.

“Come now, don’t be ridiculous.” The man said in the same cold voice as he removed his hands from Barron’s shoulders. Breathing heavily Barron looked up at the strange man with tear stained eyes.

“You don’t want to join them do you?” 

Reluctantly shaking his head Barron let out a sob, “No.”

“Then give me your hand.” The man said as he reached out to the boy. With uncertainty clear on his face Barron slowly reached out towards the man. When their hands clasped together a mysterious blue aura surrounded them and took them away from the hell on earth.


	3. The Guild

When their hands clasped together a mysterious blue aura surrounded them and took them away from the hell on earth. As the energy faded away the physical feeling of displacement combined with the trauma he had just experienced caused Barron to release bile from the lowest reaches of his stomach.

Looking at him with judging eyes the man said, “Hmmm… I thought you’d have a stronger stomach than that.” Rage at yet another display of the man’s coldness Barron let out another attack of flailing fists which were easily dodged.

Sighing the man said, “Save your energy boy. It’s not me you want to fight. You might not realize it, but I just saved your life.” Slouching in the defeat Barron simply leaned against the man’s stomach. So emotionally exhausted that he felt as though he’d collapse and yet tears were still bringing themselves to his eyes. However the man did not give the poor, lost, and emotionally tormented child any form of comfort. Instead he only spoke of the cold harsh reality Barron had found himself in.

“There is nothing left for you in Oakvale. If you had stayed you would be as dead as the rest of them.”

Not even acknowledging that the child, while not verbally, was seeking some form of compassion he turned and walked away. Stumbling from the lack of support Barron nearly fell. He only stood there as he watched the man’s retreating back.

Realizing that Barron was not following him the man turned his head to the side and said, “Come with me.”, before continuing onward. Barron chased after his only hope of survival.

As they walked down a path the man began to speak, “My name is Maze, and I’m the head of the Guild of Heroes. You must have heard of it.” Barron only squeaked a weak, and very small yes in reply all the while wondering why a so called “hero” couldn’t save his family.

Soon after they found themselves entering a small hidden fortress that was reminiscent of the more humble temples spread throughout Albion. As they walked up towards the gates the man, Maze said, “You’ll find nowhere safer in all of Albion. Nor a better place to call your home.”

Looking back at Barron as they walked Maze said, “And if it’s vengence you want, you’ll need the training only we can offer.”

“Vengeance?” Barron wondered to himself, “Is that what I want?” As he thought to himself the boy decided that, yes, that is what he wanted. After all the idea of having the guilty at your absolute mercy would sound absolutely, sinfully pleasant to anyone in such a situation. Especially to a child such as Barron.

Just before opening the gated Maze said, “Here we are. I will introduce you to the Guildmaster. He will be your guide from now on.”

Gripping at Maze’s long coat so as to not get lost Barron hounded the man like a shadow. As they walked together throughout the large complex men and women of all shapes and sizes whispered to one another as they stared at both Maze and Barron in astonishment from under their hoods. This only served to make Barron tighten his grip on Maze’s coat. Eventually they made it to a large circular room. Barron having stopped while looking around the room had finally let go of Maze.

Walking up to an elderly man he explained what was going on, “I’ve brought you a new student.” Then in a commanding tone he said, “Put him in the dorm up stairs with the girl

Looking down at Barron with a speculative eye the Guildmaster said, “You don’t look much like hero material to me. But Maze knows what he’s doing I suppose.”

Nonchalantly the Guildmaster said, “Well, follow me then.”, as he made his way up the stairs.

Once the Guildmaster had guided Barron to his new room he explained, “You will be sharing this room with Whisper, one of our brightest young pupils. She’s playing in the woods right, but you’ll meet her in the morning.”

“For now you should get your sleep. Your training starts tomorrow.” The elderly man said before leaving the room. Once he was gone Barron finally let the tears spill out. Exhausted and heartbroken he sat on what would be his bed for many years to come. Oh why did thing have to become so horrible? Why, out of all the places in Albion, was he here? And most of all, why did his family have to die? They were not horrible people. In Fact they were really quite average. So why did they have to die, only to leave one scared, confused, and lost member behind? How could fate be so unnecessarily cruel? These were the thoughts racing through Barron’s head as he cried himself to sleep.

 


	4. Day 1

Not long after the sun found itself hanging in the sky above The Guild did Barron find himself being rudely awakened. Opening his eyes from his laying position Barron looked up at the person who had shook him awake. This person was a girl, not much older than him, dark skinned and had very pale, almost unfeeling brown eyes.

With a hand on her hip the girl said, “It’s time to wake up!” As Barron put himself through the torture of having to get up when all he really wanted was to be dead the girl spoke again.

“You must be my new roommate.” Meekly Barron shook his head to confirm that, yes, he was her new roommate. Thinking aloud the girl said, “Hmmm. Shorter than I expected.”

Pointing her thumb at herself the girl offered her name, “My name’s Whisper. I’ve been here for a month. Had the room to myself ‘til now too. But that’s alright.”

“What about you? What’s your name?” Whisper asked with curious eyes.

With his voice still sour from the previous night our boy tried to speak, “Ba...Bar...ron…”

“Barron? That’s an interesting name.” When the girl said this the Barron from a week ago would have told her she was a hypocrite. He would have poked fun at her. He would have made her steam with anger. But with the tragedy that he had gone through he found he that he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Not anymore, he didn’t have the strength.

“Barron did you know that you talk in your sleep?” Whisper had very suddenly asked. 

“Sounded like a bad nightmare.” Was it that this girl was going to sympathize with him? Would she give the boy the comfort that he so desperately needed? Would she give him a light of somesort?

“Happens to a lot the first week. Some don’t even last that long.” The girl said with a smirk on her face. So, no. She was just as oblivious to the emotional turmoil Barron was going  
through as the last two were. 

Breaking Barron from his thoughts Whisper warned, “You won’t either if you don’t get moving. The Guildmaster is waiting for us in the Map Room.”

As she walked out of their room she said, “You don’t want to be late on your first day. Follow me!”

Doing as he was told he followed the girl like a shadow. Very soon he found himself in the circular room that held the stoney map of Albion. This room was noticeably missing an old man.

Turning to him Whisper remarked, “Hmm, looks like the Guildmaster got tired of waiting for you.” Before running off she explained, “He’s probably in the training grounds across the river. Let’s go!”

Once again following the girl Barron eventually found himself being lead across a small river and to a cobblestone fence of sorts where the Guildmaster stood.

“You’ve finally prized yourself from your pillow I see.” Remarked the old man. Opening the wooden gate the man continued, “Okay, come on then. Let’s see what you’re capable of.” 

Barron slowly marched his way into the practice arena. Looking around he saw nothing but a straw dummy. He glanced over at the old man and Whisper, whom was now sitting atop the fence, for help. He had absolutely no idea as to what he should be doing.

Speaking up the Guildmaster said, “All right lad, it’s time to see if you’ve got any potential. Now then, I want you to hit that dummy as hard as you can. Just keep going until I tell you to stop.”

Barron scratched the back of his head out of confusion. The only reason he was here was so that he could get revenge. Sweet beautiful revenge, that was the boy’s only goal. He truly didn’t understand how punching straw would help him.

“Well what are you waiting for, afraid it’ll bite?!” Whisper shouted from her place on the fence. Something about the goading, Barron isn't sure what, caused him to snap. Miraculously he started to wail on the scarecrow-like target as if it had been one the bandits he one day hoped to bleed dry. However, before he could release all his anger out on the dummy the Guildmaster stopped him.

“Not making much of an impact there, are you?” The man asked no one in particular. Grabbing a rather large stick from seemingly thin air the Guildmaster though it to Barron as he said, “Here, try with this.”

Barron, upon receiving his “weapon”, turned back to the straw dummy with a scowl and started swinging at the thing. Swing after swing, thrust after thrust, Barron slowly whittled the straw man away until there was nothing left.

“Ah, now that’s more like it. The more you practice, the more you fight, the more experience you’ll gain. It’s very important that you follow these lesson while under my tutelage or you won’t gain anything, and be no closer to your goal.” To himself Barron noted that this man was trying to help him after all. Although, had someone outside The Guild had witnessed this conversation and knew of the context they would have been appalled. Barron however, being a child was unaware of any unfortunate implications behind the word nor would he have cared had he understood why the old man’s actions could be considered troubling.

As the man approached his pupil he congratulated the boy, “Well done, lad. Now then, tomorrow we’ll…” The Guildmaster however did not get to finish his statement as he was interrupted by the sound of tower bells.

Turning towards the sound he exclaimed, “That’s the Guild alarm! Sounds like there might be something loose in the woods.”

Excitedly Whisper jumped off of the fence and shouted, “I’ll go handle it!” Unfortunately for her the old man stopped her.

“No. This will be a good opportunity for the boy to test his spirit. Besides, I do believe you have chores that are in need of being finished.” Sighing Whisper headed towards the main building and away from what she more than likely deemed “fun.”

Pointing at an exit not to far away the old man told Barron, “I’ll wait for you at the Guild Woods entrance while you deal with the problem. Once you’re done we can talk about starting your training.” Barron nodded and ran off. Briefly he remembered how the Constables, and at times his own mother, would go into the woods to fight creatures that came too near for comfort. The memory however left as soon as it came as the boy found himself in very unfamiliar woods. 

The further he walked the more he wondered if there was even anything to be fought in the forest that hid The Guild from outsiders. Coming near a pond Barron heard the faint sound of buzzing. Curious he walked towards the noise only to feel shocked moments later. Upon nearing the edge of the pond small mounds started to appear in the sandy mud. As quickly as they appeared they were broken by podomeres that erupted outwards from within the watered earth. Furiously the podomeres dug towards the surface until their owners were free from their dens. With loud screeches the creatures, giant black beetles, flew towards Barron ready to attack.

Without thinking Barron started to swing his stick wildly. Somehow channeling all the luck in the world Barron managed not to be hit, not once. Swinging his stick with all his might Barron knocked one of the pesky bugs straight out of the air. It’s body flinched several times before it laid there, dead. Enraged the rest of the beetle swarm charged. Their efforts proved fruitless however as Barron struck each and every one of them down with the same force and ferocity as the first. Panting Barron found himself to be very tired. While he wasn’t sure whether or not the exhaustion was from the emotional strain or the physical strain Barron knew it was time to head back. Once he finally made it back to The Guild Barron was greeted by the Guildmaster. 

“Good work, lad. Those beetles can be a damn nuisance.” The old man congratulated him. Reaching into his coat the Guildmaster pulled out a small bag and handed it to the boy. “Here. I think you’ve earned yourself some pocket money for that.”

With a smirk the man said, “If you want to gain more gold the servants around here may be willing to accept your help with some tasks. Although I recommend getting an early night.”

Barron nodded, rest sounded nice right about now.


	5. Day 47

Days wore on to weeks, and eventually those weeks turned into a month. Yes, our young Barron had been at The Guild for just a little over a month now. He practiced his sword fighting with the now familiar stick, read what ever books his short stature could get a hold of, and occasionally shot at bats in the belfry with a slingshot he had dipped from a traveling saleswoman. At a crawling pace the boy was getting closer and closer to his goal of revenge. However, there was one problem. The fact that the boy had emotions was forgotten by everyone who lived at the Guild. 

During Barron’s first week he did absolutely everything in his power to please The Guildmaster. He’d hit the straw dummy for hours at a time, without complaint. He’d study subject that he had never heard of, nor wanted to learn, without complaint. He’d even endure Whispers snoring, without complaint. However, the praise that the boy so desperately worked for was few and far between and the money that was occasionally distributed held absolutely no interest for the boy. Eventually Barron found that coins and empty praise from a man who only sought to turn him into a warrior was decidedly not enough. 

During the second week Barron had tried to be a good little boy. He would help the servants gather ingredients, and always made sure they were fresh. He would keep the beatles at bay. Deliver letters from one Hero to another, never asking about it’s contents. Clean the filth from the stables. Barron eve cleaned the halls when the servants proved far too lazy to do it themselves. However, no praise, no hugs, not even appreciative smiles came his way. Only a growing collection of cold, lifeless coins.

By the time the third week came around Barron had started to act like a not so good little boy. When asked to help cook he would intentionally put the wrong ingredients in, secretly hoping someone would get sick. The boy would go into the woods at night and bag beatles into a well used burlap sack so that he could release them into the large garden. He would take horse dung and slingshot it at random passers-by from the rooftops. He’d even break objects on a whim, just to make the servants jobs more difficult. However, Barron had no liberties taken away, no missed dinners, nor a single scolding. Instead everyone remained either absolutely oblivious, or simply chose to ignore the boy.

Yes, everything the boy did to get attention had largely failed. There was not a single person to play with, nor anyone to read him bedtime stories, but more importantly, absolutely no one was willing to love him back. You see, when given so little love a person, especially a child, may begin to perceive things in an incorrect way. Which is what he began to do towards Maze. Barron largely sought out a parental figure and had managed to latch on to the man that saved his life for such a role. In fact it was on this night that he sought the large, glowing man.

He walked through corridor after corridor looking for Maze. Searching in the library and the dining area. Barron even snuck into areas he wasn't yet allowed to go. Eventually Barron found himself climbing a large, swirled staircase that would lead him to one of the many study rooms in The Guild. However, before turning the corner into the room he heard a low, unfamiliar, gravelly voice. 

“The journey’s length is of no consequence. The Oracle must be protected.” Peering over the edge Barron saw that this voice belonged to a bandaged man who wore a fur trimmed robe standing next to Maze.

“How can you be so sure? We might need you here. Who know what battles we might face.” Maze questioned the man.

“The signs are too strong to ignore, and the Northern Wastes have been too long isolated from The Guild. There is much I may learn there.” The bandaged man reasoned.

Angered but calm Maze said, “Well, I hope nobody thinks you’re running away from a fight, trying to cheat death again. You know how people talk…”

Unfazed the skeletal faced man said, “Talk is of no matter to me. May death close his eyes to you, Maze.”, and like that the stranger was gone in a flash of blue light.

Maze simply stood there for a moment, looking at the spot that the man had previously been standing before saying, “What are you waiting for? Come in.” Surprised Barron stumbled towards Maze’s still turned back.

“That was scythe. He was a great hero once,” the man said as he turned towards the boy, “back when he had flesh on his bones and flesh in his veins.”

More to himself then to Barron the glowing man said, “He’s just a shell now. What does he know of the choice we have to make, of what it takes to get things done?”

Maze then walked towards the fireplace and peered at the flame within, “You should probably head off to bed for now boy.” Barron did just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: What? You thought I was done with childhood? You should have expected another entry into it, Dearies. Also for those who don’t know dip/dipped/dipping is slang for steal/stolen/stealing. Just thought you’d like to know.


	6. Day 2446

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I always viewed Whisper and the protagonist as somewhat dysfunctional friends… Yes, prepare for awkward teen rivalry. Also I found some things (such as Thunder not knowing the protagonist) in the apprentice section of the game odd so you might notice some (more than usual) deviation from the game.

_The Guild was now the boy’s life. The memories of the Oakvale Flames still scorched in his mind, but soon he had no other thought than training, and he became stronger and more agile with each passing year. His days were filled with grueling exercises. The night with study in the library. Finally he was ready to become a Guild Apprentice, just as Maze had foreseen. The real training was about to begin._

That is if Whisper could just get him out of bed. Whisper and Barron had been roommates for almost seven years now and there were just some things the two had gotten used to. Such as Whisper excepting the task to make such a deep sleeper wake up every morning. Today she had tried a variety of tactics. First it was simply yelling at him to get up. When that didn’t work she tried tugging his brown hair. That did not work either. She’d attempt to simply pull him out of bed but had she not learned her lesson from the last time she had done so. Instead she opted to squeeze his nose shut. This only got Barron to push her hand off and away as he rolled over onto his stomach. This lead to Whisper using her most convoluted plan yet. Whisper crawled on top of Barron and sat on his back in a way that could have been considered straddling. Barron let out a groan of annoyance.

Repeatedly hitting his upper back Whisper yelled, “Get out of bed, lazybones!”  When this only caused him to wiggle under her, most likely in an attempt to get comfortable and fall back to sleep, Whisper rolled her eyes.

Sighing she said, “We were suppose to meet the Guildmaster at the other side of the river.”

Seeing that she got no response she decided to mention something that she might regret later, “But that was an hour ago!” Immediately Barron shot up, knocking Whisper to the ground as he scrambled to get out of bed.

Landing on the ground with an “Oof!” Whisper watched as her insanely silent roommate ran to their shared dresser. Now, this might surprise some people, but the two teenagers didn’t have a nudity taboo of any sorts when it came to each other. Even despite the fact that they were of opposite gender. While Whisper had been extremely embarrassed the first several times the boy had casually change out of his night clothes and into his day clothing she quickly realized something. Attempting to explain to Barron why something might be deemed socially inappropriate was a lost cause.

Barron, to say the least, wasn’t a people person. He gave no care as to how his words could offend others. He did not notice the odd looks he would get when he dressed in a particularly strange way. Nor was he able to comprehend another Hero’s anger when he bested them in something. He’d often come to Whisper in silent confusion after being yelled at for feeding the ever troublesome sparrows. To put it simply, Barron and other human beings just did not mix well. In fact his nonchalance about most things had rubbed off on Whisper. From her inability to give a damn about what most others would think to no longer caring about nudeness. So she waited impatiently for him to get dressed into his apprentice clothing.

Once the young man was fully clothed Whisper stood up and said, “We better get going. Race you there!”

And like that they were off. Shoving eachother when they both tried to go through the doorway. Eventually Barron managed to squeeze past her, only to fall on the floor. Whisper laughed as she ran down the hall. Barron jumped to his feet  and gave chase. When he came to the end of the hall he saw Whisper sliding down the staircase railing. In order to catch up to her he leapt off of the interior balcony landing just a few feet away from her. They both then ran through the shopkeepers room and into the courtyard that held the gravesites of once great heroes. Soon they found themselves running over the bridge and over to the training grounds. Whisper, not being one to be beat, picked up speed and made it the stone fence just moments before Barron.

Smiling at their antics the Guildmaster said, “Late again aren’t you?”

Looking over at Barron specifically he said, “You do seem to have a problem with getting up in the morning.” Shrugging Barron walked into the ring with Whisper and grabbed the all too familiar stick as Whisper twirled her staff around in a carefree manor.

Shaking his head the elderly man said, “You both can put those old sticks away. We’ll begin training with real weapons now.” The Guildmaster unsheathed a longsword and gave the weapon to Barron.

“Get used to the feel of this sword, and lets see if you can hit Whisper with it.” He said as Barron tossed the longsword back in forth between his hands as he got a feel for it. The sword’s blade was made out of fine shining iron and was surprisingly light for of weapon of it’s length.

“Come on then. Let’s see what you got, Farmboy.” The young woman teased her friend. The two then sized each other up as Barron lifted his new weapon in the often practiced battle stance. Barron charged with a scream as he brought his blade down on Whisper, whom blocked it with her staff.

Pushing the boy away Whisper smirked, “Is that all you’ve got?” Gritting his teeth Barron charged after her. No matter how hard or fast he swung Barron could not hit her directly. She would leap or roll away at the last second, dodging his attacks. When he did manage to hit her it was always her staff that his sword met.

 

“Good, good. Well done, boy.” Said the Guildmaster the seventh time that sword and staff collided.

“Now boy, show me that you can block as well. The life of a Hero is a dangerous one after all. If you can’t block your enemies attacks you won’t live very long.”

“Whisper will try to hit you and it will be up to you to protect yourself. So don’t expect me to interfere.” Briefly Barron wondered upon the implications of the elderly man’s words.

“Not all blows can be blocked, but you should be able to handle anything Whisper can throw at you.”

Barron brought up his sword as Whisper creeped towards him with her ever present smirk. She swung the end of her staff at her rival but Barron was able to block it. Swinging at his feet Whisper managed to make him stumble and proceeded to whack him roughly in the chest, knocking him a few feet away. Using her staff to launch herself into the air Whisper attempted to land on him feet first. However, he rolled out of the way and jumped to his feet. Whisper continued to swing at him and for the most part Barron was able to shield himself. Eventually the Guildmaster stopped them.

“Well done. Now lets see if the two of you can combine your skills in combat with your skills of defence.” He said as a burly, and very familiar man approached the melee training grounds.

 

Noticing the new presence the Guildmaster turned and said, “Ah, hello Thunder. Come to check on your sister’s progress., have you?”

Shrugging the man said, “You could say that.”

Looking over at Barron with a glare Thunder continued, “Whisper told me you had her training with that farmboy.”

Both teenagers knew that Thunder disliked Barron, though the reason was lost to them. In the past the man would look at Barron with cold eyes from afar. However, as of late, the man would often come and find the dup during their free time and spit venomous words at Barron. Occasionally even threatening the the boy. This often lead to Whisper becoming incredibly upset with her brother and cause a great deal of confusion on Barron’s part. It’s not like he could know about the whole, “shameless changing in front of each other” thing.

“Maze thinks the boy has great potential.” The Guildmaster said defensively.

With a quirked eyebrow Thunder said, “Enough to keep up with my Whisper? Bah!”

“Well, why don’t we see. Your sister and the boy are just working on their skills now.” The Guildmaster inquired in a challenging voice.

Both men turned towards the apprentices as the Guildmaster said, “All right children, let’s see who has learned the most from your training.”

Getting back into their positions they bowed before initiating combat. As a sword and staff connected again and again Thunder watched. He cheered his sister on when she hit Barron. He criticized her when she got hit. He was also no doubt thinking venomous things about Barron, but didn’t dare speak his thoughts aloud while the Guildmaster was around. Her brother proved to be very distracting for Whisper. As Barron swung his sword in an attempt to strike her she failed to block him. While her first flying kick of the match managed to hit her long time friend the second was inconveniently just a few centimeters off and Barron was able to dodge it. Getting close to the younger teen was difficult due to his brute strength. If she messed up he could have her sprawled out on the ground in just a few good hits. Which is what ultimately happened. Before she could recover Barron aggressively harpooned the dirt two inches away from Whisper’s head. I silent gesture that said, “Stay down.”

“That is quite enough you two!” The Guildmaster said.

Angrily Thunder said, “That’s all wrong, Whisper! You need to practice more!” He then proceeded to gloat, “Shame you couldn’t see me at the Arena, You might have learned a thing or two.”

As he walked away Thunder said, “Keep training if your want to there yourself one day.”

Whisper could only watch as her brother walked away is disappointment. Barron, for once, realized the social situation that had unfolded in front of him. Sympathetically but wordlessly he stuck an open hand out for Whisper to grab. He wanted to help her off of the ground. He wanted to show he was sorry but didn’t know how else to express it. When Whisper noticed the outstretched hand she smacked it away furiously. Standing up she glared at the Guildmaster and pointed an accusing finger at Barron.

“I could have beat him if you hadn’t stopped us!” She yelled. She could have kicked him in the balls had she been given just a few more seconds. Then as he recoiled in pain she could have knocked Barron to ground and had her staff to his throat. She could have been praised by her big brother instead of scolded for trying her best. Her best, which evidently to everyone else, just wasn’t good enough for the man.

In his usual lecturing tone the Guildmaster said, “We have few enough Heroes as it is, without the two of you tearing each other apart in training.” Whisper just scoffed and stormed off, ignoring the rare sign of emotion in her rival’s face.

After a few moments the Guildmaster said, “Speaking of training, meet me as you make it to the archery range when you’re ready to continue your lessons.”

“Oh, and about your melee performance... a couple of minor mistakes, but otherwise good work.” He added.

And then the old man was gone. Barron just glared at the ground. Angry with himself, angry at Thunder, but most of all he was angry at Whisper. What gave her the right to be so cruel. It was training, did she expect him to not give it his all. However, Barron was able to comprehend her reasoning to some extent, and he wanted to make it up to her. Somehow.   

“Wow. Is no one coming?” Said a voice that snapped him out of his thoughts. Looking up Barron saw one of the few Heroes that were adorned with black and red robes.

“What about you? I got this sword here. It’s from an eastern country. All you gotta do is a trial and if I think you're good enough I’ll give it to you.”

Thinking hard he wondered if it would fix things. He never really understood how his arguments with Whisper started, what they were about, or how to fix them. Barron was just too emotionally disattached with the world to get any of it. However, he knows of two Heroes at the Guild whom were a pair. Friends? Lovers? He didn’t know. What he did know was that whenever they got mad at each other they would present piece offerings and things seemed to be magically better in five seconds flat. With that thought in mind Barron decided to go through the trial. Which wasn’t much at all. It was incredibly simple really. Simple enough that it was so unimportant to him that he forgot any detail of said “trial” seconds after he received the weapon. It was a blade. A katana to be more clear. So, with both weapons put away he walked to his next part of the training. He couldn’t just ditch it after all. He needed to enhance his skill at every interval if he ever wanted revenge. That was his top priority - Whisper could wait.

When Barron arrived at the archery training grounds he went through the usual routine. First, string the bow. Second, choose the arrows he would be using. Third, hit the stationary targets. Finally, hit moving targets. He’s done it a thousand times before. He no longer needed to wait, nor watch the moving dummies to hit the painted on bullseyes.  He knew how fast they moved. He also knew when was the best section of the course to hit them. Today he’d even managed to hit the one in the back four times. Which made him feel a sense of pride when he remembered the first afternoon he had attempted to hit the moving targets, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t hit that last one worth a damn. Now? Now it was second nature. Barron was frankly annoyed that the Guildmaster has so far failed to realize how pointless this had become. Was it good to practice striking down moving opponents? Yes. Was it good to run the same course over, and over each day until he could practically hit the targets with closed eyes out of routine? No. Barron knew for a fact that actual enemies wouldn’t work like that.

“Nice aiming.” The Guildmaster said, indicating that Barron could stop. In all honesty Barron was thankful, archery had become boring long ago. He actually sorta wished he had prioritized the angry Whisper over this.

“Next we shall see how much you know about the ways of the Will. Let’s walk to the training area by the waterfalls.” Barron was somewhat surprised by this. Not that he was going to practicing Will, but the fact that they were going to that particular training grounds. It was a rare, if dull, occasion.

Barron walked with his teacher in silence. He listened to the chatter of the Heroes and servants. Stories detailing great adventures. Lewd comments to one another. An argument about whether or not escort missions were worth the damned trouble. All things Barron was largely not interested in.

When they reached the small area the elderly man said, “Let’s see what your studies of magic in the library has taught you.”

“Use the spell you’ve been studying to hit these straw dummies.” Barron reached deep within himself and felt an electric surge run through his veins as he brought the power of lightning to his fingertips.

“All right, let’s see what you’ve got.” With that Barron sent a strike of lightning hurtling into one of the targets. The Guildmaster than made him practice shooting his chosen Will spell into the dummies as fast as he could for some time.

“Excellent use of magic, well done.” The Guildmaster said, indicating Barron could stop. Nodding to himself The Guildmaster congratulated Barron.

“Very good, lad. You have learned the three Hero disciplines. We can now move on to preparing for your final test. If you feel ready, that is.”  The Guildmaster was about to say something else but a Barron interrupted him.

“I am ready.” This is what he had been waiting so many years for.

“Really? Well, I thought you would want to see Whisper. She should be heading towards the woods right now.” This, of course, was the Guildmaster’s attempt to make the teens makeup. Barron new this. “Apparently the old man thinks it can’t wait.” Barron had reasoned to himself.

“Either way, I shall wait for you in the Map Room.” The elderly man informed before walking off. Barron decided that now would be a good time to see her, realizing that he’d be far too tired after the test to do any form of apologizing.

Barron ran to the gates, and upon seeing his friend he shouted her name with a largely unused voice. Turning around she looked at him with a blank expression and said,

“Hmmm, what do you want?”

Unsheathing the katana, the peace offering, and handed it over in the most gentlemanly way he knew how - Bowing as he held it out for her to take. Carefully Whisper took the blade and examined it. However, as soon as Barron was no longer bowing she forced the weapon back into his hands. Barron was confused, and evidently it showed on his face for once.

Shaking her head she smirked, “I get what you’re trying to do, and believe it or not I appreciate it. However, I don’t use bladed. Did you forget about that, Farmboy?” The only reply that Whisper got was Barron awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

With a laugh she said, “Come on, let’s hunt beetles.” Then the two friends raced each other into the woods. Eventually they slowed and Whisper took the lead.

“The new beetle nest is just at the top of the…” Whisper stopped mid explanation grabbed Barron and slammed him behind a nearby boulder. Before Barron could start an argument Whisper began to speak again.

“Ssssh, did you hear that? It sounded like it was coming from over there.” She said, referring to some old ruins. Both teenagers peaked over the boulder and their eyes widened at what they saw.

“Bandits!” Whisper exclaimed as softly as possible. Barron had become enraged at the sight of the thugs and immediately withdrew the katana, ready to charge through the stream and run them through. However, Whisper had managed to grab him behind the waste and attempted to make her friend think rationally.

“We won’t be able to get over there without being seen! I know, use your bow, or some of that lightning of your’s.”

After letting go she assured, “I’ll heal you if you get hurt.”

Breathing in deeply Barron somewhat unclouded his mind as he grasped one of the arrows. Moving as quietly as possible he brought his yew bow up and aimed. After release the arrow imbedded itself one of the bandit’s necks. The man fell as blood rapidly leaked out of his neck and erupted from his mouth. With an enraged scream one of his allied shot an arrow towards Barron and struck him in the shoulder. As Whisper screamed his name he couldn’t help but wonder why the Guildmaster didn’t teach him how to dodge arrows. Ignoring the pain he shot electricity out at his enemies causing them to cower behind what had once been stone walls.

After pulling Barron behind their boulder Whisper took hold of the arrow and ripped it out of her friend’s flesh. Now, it must be noted that you should never do such a thing. You see, despite the pain it is bad to take a projectile out of yourself when you are not close to medical care. It will just cause you to bleed out quicker. In this case however, it is fine as Whisper studied the less offensive aspects of Will. Concentrating, Whisper put her hands over the wound and soft, peaceful light illuminated off of them. When the light touched Barron’s skill it started to pull back together. Within seconds the only signs that Barron had had a wound at all was the ripped and bloodied fabric upon his shoulder.

“C’mon, Jimmy! Let’s move through the water so we can get ‘em!” One of the Bandits yelled.

After Barron rolled his eyes Whisper laughed in agreement, “They’re pretty dumb, huh?”

Upon hearing them enter the water Barron edged slightly away from the boulder. Looking at them with piercing eyes he waited. They were halfway through the stream, and were waist deep in it’s water. Deciding they wouldn’t be able to escape Barron shot a small pulse of electricity into the water. Before you could blink the stream was blanketed in blue lightning, and so were the two bandits. They stood convulsing from the lightning, and screaming in pain until their now burned bodies collapsed into the water, lifeless.

Whisper cheered, “We did it! Did you see the looks on their faces!?”

  
Before running off Whisper yelled, “Wait ‘till the Guildmaster hears about this!” Barron however felt an odd mixture of peacefulness and unease. Both were feeling that he was rather unfamiliar with. He was unsure of what do. Ending the lives of some bandits before they harmed innocents felt like catharsis for the young man. However, there was this sinking feeling that had lodged itself in the pit of his stomach. Not knowing what to do he simply decided to chase after Whisper. She disappeared from sight however, and Barron opted to look for his teacher instead. Once he found the Guildmaster the man scolded him for wanting to continue training at, “-such an ungodly time.” and sent him to his and Whisper’s room, where she was already asleep. Barron, only bothering to remove his weapons, walked over to his bed and practically fell on it. Immediately he fell asleep. Nothing but his traumatized mind waiting for him in the realm of sleep.


	7. Graduation

The boy mastered the skills quickly, but there was always more to learn. For years the Guild was his home, his school, and his life. But as time passed his thoughts returned always to the world outside. The life he had lost. The family that had been torn from him. At last, only the final tests remained. Success would mark the end of his training. He would receive the Guild Seal and be free to forge his own destiny. He would become a hero.

Today was the day for Barron to prove himself. Surprising everyone he got up as the sun was just starting to rise. He prepared, and once he felt ready for his final test he went to the melee training arena and waited there for the Guildmaster. When the man arrived he spared no formalities.

“Before you can graduate, there is one final test you must complete.”, he said sternly.

“Go to the Guild Woods and go to the log at the top of the hill. The test will be revealed to you there. Good luck.”, and with that he left.

As did Barron. He made the short trek through the woods. Once he made it to log he leaned against it. Hoping that whoever was directing the test would get there soon. He wanted to get this over with, he wanted to get out of the Guild and into the outside world as soon as possible. He looked up when he heard the familiar “twiring” of someone using a Guild Seal to teleport and stared coldly at the blue light that followed. However, his eyes widened when he saw his instructor was no other than Maze.

Looking over at the young man Maze said, “I suppose you are wondering how you pass the final test then? It’s simple.”

Barron gave him a skeptically raised eyebrow before the man continued, “You must defeat me, using all you have learnt in your years of training.”

Calmly, as if the possibility of either party getting severely injured, Maze said, “We'll begin with your sword. Hit me, if you can.”

Barron quickly unsheathed his sword and lunged at his mentor only for the man to teleport away. Barron moved quickly and swung his sword before Maze would even begin to teleport again, only for the man to block the sword with his staff. That was still a hit however, and there were only six more to go before he passed the Melee section of the test. So he swung furiously, and stayed light on his feet so he could chase the man down when necessary. After what felt like hours, but at the same time felt like just a few seconds, Maze began to speak as to indicate this portion of the test was over.

“Very good. Now shoot me with your bow. Don’t get too close!”, and with that the game of cat and mouse through the woods began a new. Barron mindlessly going through the motions of attacking his “enemy”.

Once that portion of the test was over Maze said, “Excellent. And finally, cast lightning at me.”

Briefly Barron felt unsure, remembering the scorched bodies of the dead, floating bandits. However, like many things that upset him in even the slightest way, he put the memories of his kill in the back of his mind. His resolve for revenge remembered Barron called the magical lightning to his hands and began throwing the energy around. Doing his best to strike Maze down. This game of cat and mouse did not last as long as the other two. Or it didn't feel like it did at the least.

When Barron stopped he was congratulated, “That’s enough. Yes, quite impressive, for a novice.” The young man inwardly cringed when the word “novice” left Maze’s mouth. However, he continued to listen to the older man.

“You’ll find real battles rather more fatal than this.”, he said more to himself than to Barron.

“But you have passed your final test, and you are ready to receive the Guild Seal from the Guildmaster.”, he confirmed. With that he slammed the bottom edge of his staff into the earth and disappeared in a blue glow. Still processing that his training was officially over he walked slowly back to the Guild. The Guildmaster was waiting for him at the gate.

“Well. This is the day, lad.”, the old man said as Barron walked up to him.

Thoughtfully he continued, “I remember the first night you came to us. Now look at you.”

Barron took a moment to think of that day. The blood, screams, fire, and smoke.

The loss of being able to have a good dream. His will to speak escaping. His dead family. A truly horrible day. A day he’d get vengeance for soon enough.

Breaking Barron out of his dark thoughts the Guildmaster continued on still, “Maze’s faith in you was well placed. Now come along. The graduation will take place in the Chamber of Fate, the oldest part of the Guild.”

Barron shook his head at the old man’s tendency for over exposition. Of course he already knew what the Chamber of Fate was. How many years had he been living at the Guild? His mild frustration with the old man did not last however. When the Guildmaster had opened the doors that Barron had once feared would be forever closed to him. Had anyone else walked into the room for the first time they would have been amazed. The grey, and white stone walls, and floors had not a spec on them. Each brick had been skillfully carved and handled with care the day they were put together like a puzzle. Beautiful etched carvings laid across the stone walls.

Attached to the walls were magnificent stained glass windows, each with their own design. The way the sun shining through them and made colorful cascades of light would be enough to brighten an average person’s heart. But not Barron’s own. His was far too eroded to recognize such beauty. To him, this was nothing but a room. A special room, one that would help him get that much closer to his goal, but still just a room. Unlike most people would he had no plans to come back and relive it’s beauty.

Soon Whisper came in with her elder brother and Maze. Both apprentices were told to stand in the center of the room by Maze, whom quickly retreated to stand to the Guildmaster’s left. Thunder moved forward to stand at the Guildmaster’s right. Soon the area behind them was flooded with Heroes who watched in anticipation. They were either worried over their potentially new rivals, or excited to watch the two children they had watched grow join their ranks. Very suddenly the crowd behind Barron and Whisper quieted as the Guildmaster spoke.

“Let the apprentices approach.”

As the duo walked towards their teachers the Guildmaster continued to speak, “For many years you have worked hard to earn yourselves the title of Hero. Today your apprenticeship ends and you go out into the world to do great deeds.”

“Deeds that will bring you the gratitude of thousands. Or strike fear into their hearts. These are dark times. The shadows of Albion are stirring, and strange winds are blowing.”

“Your choices, whether they lead you down the path of good or evil, will change the face of this world.”

As Thunder and Maze walked towards them and handed both young warriors their Guild Seals the crowd began to cheer and the Guildmaster said, “Now take your Guild Seals, and venture forth as Heroes!”

Whisper quickly turned round with a large grin on her face. Jutting her hand into the air she showed her Seal to all other Heroes. Parading it like a trophy. Her enthusiasm earned even louder cheers. Barron on the other hand, tucked his Seal away and walked slowly out of the loud Chamber. He began to wonder what challenges he and Whisper would face next.

**  
  
**


	8. The Outside World

Barron had exchanged his Guild clothing for something much more civilian in nature. He carried a sheathed sword, his bow, and a quiver full of handmade arrows upon his back. A satchel was strapped to his large, fine leather belt. In it was some key necessities, such as food. Before he could leave however, the Guildmaster stopped him to talk.

“It is time for you to leave us, lad. But you’re still very much apart of the Guild.”

Gesturing behind him the old man said, “On the map table you will find details of any quests the people of Albion wish Heroes to perform. And you’ll need to return often to learn new skills.”

Nodding to himself the Guildmaster said, “Only by doing such things can you expect to advance in any way as a Hero.” Rarely did Barron speak but he decided now would be best, if only to get the old man himself to stop talking.

“Do not worry. I will be here regularly to hone my skills.”

The Guildmaster nodded once more, “There is little else for me to teach you, but I will always be around to offer you guidance. And your Guild Seal will allow us to communicate if need be.”

Before he left he said, “I see that you found the supplies I left for you. Yes, it will be enough to last you at least a short while. Now there is a whole world for you to explore. So get to it!”

“Finally.”, Barron thought to himself. Quickly he walked over to the magical table and waved his hand over it. The tabletop was shrouded in a dusty gold light. Within the dust images appeared, a wasp, a troll of some sort, what appeared to be a crowd with pitch forks and torches, and lastly a strange wolf like creature he wasn’t familiar with. He touched the wolf creature, hoping to get more information about it from a card. Unfortunately the dusty image only crumbled at his touch. This perplexed him as he should have been able to read the details of the quest if not outright except it.

“I suppose I will just have to study it on my own. The library must have a book on it after all.”, he reasoned inwardly.

He looked at the dusty image of the angry mob and waved it off. If his knowledge on the dust images were correct than he’d either be helping rebellion or quelling it. He wasn’t particularly interested in doing either if he were to be perfectly honest. He reached out towards the image of the troll. The objective was clear, kill. He was good at that, trained for it, so he decided it would be a good first quest. However, when his fingers touched it the image crumbled just like the previous two. Reluctantly Barron touched the image of a wasp, and unlike the other images it did not crumble. Instead the gold dust turned into a card. On the card it said, “End the Picnic Area infestation.” Taking on such a minor problem felt like an insult towards all the years he had been training.  

Shrugging to himself he mumbled, “Better than staying here forever.”

Barron walked over to two large red doors that he himself had never touched, and gave them a strong shove. Walking out into the world was about as grand as he had expected. Of course by grand I mean trees. Lots of trees and a dirt road. Oh, and of course there was vendor who sold the most useless things ever but we’ll get back to him in a while. Honestly though, the only thing that made Lookout Point look different from the Guild Woods was a strange red platform of some kind.

As the doors closed behind him Barron saw a rather pitiful looking man run up to him. The tripped once and fell smack on his face. The vendor nearby started to laugh as the man struggled to get up. After some rather comedic wobbling about Barron began to wonder if he was the town drunk that he had heard some Heroes complaining about the other day. Once the man regained his footing he ran the rest of the way over to Barron.

Out of breath the man spoke, “Oh, I just knew someone was going to answer our call for help! I mean, I have no idea who you are but at least someone bloody took our quest!”

“Just tell the boy what you want you damned coward!”, shouted the vendor. Barron decided he liked him, would have to get his name later when he had the time.

“Huh? Oh, right right! Wasps are attacking the picnic area! Follow me!”

The man then ran off. Much to Barron’s annoyance he didn’t even have to jog after the man as he tripped over himself enough that Barron was able to keep pace simply by walking.  However Barron began to hear a faint buzzing noise and when a woman came screaming in terror from that direction Barron broke out into a sprint leaving the villager behind. Barron ran under a small archway and down a path until he reached a picnic table. The scene in front of him surprised him. While he knew the wasps would be larger than you average insect, he hadn’t expected them to be the size of his head. He also didn’t expect to see dead, heavily puncture bodies lying on the ground.

A man cowered, cornered between a rock and a ferocious wasp screaming for help. Barron quickly unsheathed his sword and ran the tip of the blade through the bugs eyes, skewering it to the ground. The man thanked him and made a promise that Barron couldn’t find the time to listen too. Instead he transitioned to his bow and arrows. With unrecognizable speed he’d pull the arrows out of their quiver and fire them at the bugs. The first down was one that had foolishly tried to charge him. This resulted in an arrow getting embedded between it’s eyes, killing it instantly. The second down was the one chasing a poor, redheaded woman around in circles. He shot an arrow through it’s abdomen causing it to fall from the air. Barron walked over to it and squashed it’s fragile skull under his boot. Barron lost count after that. Mindlessly shooting the drones down and keeping them away from the woman.

“You saved my life. Thank you so much!”, the woman said with a smile. However, a buzzing sound erupted from behind Barron and the woman’s face changed from pure gratitude to pure terror and ran off. Sighing to himself Barron turned around to face the man sized Queen. The beast quickly flew around the dun dial rapidly, leaving a trail of black, cindery mist behind her. Before Barron could blink the mist gained life in the form of three drones. Quickly Barron struck the drones down with well aimed arrows. Alas when Barron went to grab another arrow to embed in the Queen he found his quiver empty.

Throwing his bow to the ground he summoned the power of electricity to his hands. Feeling the blue energy pulsing in his fingertips he sent bolt after bolt out at the beast. The beast was stunned for a moment but broke out of it’s dazed state and quickly tried to ram into Barron. The young warrior was far quicker though and rolled out of the way. Once at a safe distance he let out another stream of lightning. Seeing it’s defeat nearing the Queen made more drones in a desperate attempt to live. Unfortunately for them Barron lightning remained to strong and he obliterated the head sized bugs in seconds. He then sent one last bolt of electricity towards the Queen and she fell just as he followers did.

“That felt… anticlimactic for some reason.”, he noted inwardly. Quickly he scoped the area. Retrieving his sword and dislodging his arrows from the insects bodies. Much to his annoyance only four of his arrows would be reusable, which meant he’d be spending several hours refilling his quiver. Deciding he deserved something he chopped off the Queen’s head in hopes someone at the guild could taxidermy it. To his surprise a crowd of people ran up to him as he made to leave. They began asking questions that Barron thought were relatively stupid. For example…

“How’d you do it, lad?”

“I mostly just shot arrows at them.” This caused them to stupidly make awing noises at him. After one of the people shoved money into his hands in gratitude Barron awkwardly maneuvered around the crowd so he could leave.

Soon he found himself in front of the red doors. Procrastinating so he wouldn't have to return to the Guild yet he tried to strike up a conversation with the vendor. Turned out his name was Leo. Also turned out he was just as much of a conversationalist as Barron, which meant attempts at small talk were pointless. As Barron was about to leave and open those horrid red doors a familiar arm slung around his shoulder.

“Hey there, Farmboy!”, Whisper shouted happily.

Raising an eyebrow she pointed at the Queen’s head, “Ummm, what’s with that?”

“Trophy.”, Barron informed her bluntly.

“Right.” she said drawing the ‘i’ in the word longer than need be.

“So, did you kick some chickens like usual?”

Her questioned caused Leo to look up from the book he had been reading. He gutted an eyebrow as he looked at Barron, then to Whisper, then back at Barron before finally returning his eyes to his book. Barron having not noticed Leo’s brief moment of confusion simply shook his head to indicate he had done no such thing.

“Really? I thought that was like a national country bumpkin kinda sport. Oh, well. Let’s just get to the mess hall before all the good food is gone!”, and with that his friend dragged Barron back into the Guild.

 


	9. Down Time With Whisper

Whisper probably looked like a loon to the people outside the Guild. After all it sure seemed like she was talking to herself. However, it’s not her fault she shared a room with someone who was practically a mute. It also wasn’t her fault that this someone had been her best friend for many years. After all it’s only natural that she be able to understand an entire sentence that her fellow warrior wished to say by a simple flick of a finger. He barely spoke his mind and she needed to find someway to understand the person she shared a room with. If she hadn’t found out how to do so she would have likely gone truly insane within the first year. Luckily for her the man had proved to be at least somewhat expressive with his body language. So Whisper trained hard and by her third year of being roommates with Barron she had been able to understand even his most complicated of thoughts through small gestures. So, in Whisper’s mind, this completely justifies stopping mid sentence in one of their seemingly one sided conversations in order to give Leo a death glare when she noticed him looking at the duo with a perplexed expression.

However, their staring match was put on hold when Barron poked her knee. This was his way of asking if she was alright. At least that’s how he asks when they’re sitting. When standing he would poke her shoulder but that doesn’t matter right now, because they’re sitting. Relaxing in the bench they had currently occupied she nodded her head to let him know that she was indeed fine. The small smile disappeared as soon as it had appeared and Barron rolled his wrist in order to ask her to continue the previous conversation.

“Oh, that? Yeah, my brother told me that if you're not renown enough the table won’t let you take certain quests. Something about it guarding the thoughts and emotions of the people who sent the quest. Stupid right?”

He nodded.

“Seriously, why focus on how famous you are with people rather than your actual skill. It’s impossibly easy to get famous in Albion as warrior for doing simple tasks or just making up stories.”

He nodded again. Yes, this duo were on the same page a good percent of the time.

“Don’t old Chicken Chaser there ever talk?”, Leo asked from his tiny outdoor shop.

“It hurts his throat. If he spoke more often his throat might get stronger. But you don’t need to do you, Farmboy?”

Barron shook his head.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause he’s got me as a rival!”, Whisper said boisterously.

Under his breath Leo said, “I wouldn’t be to happy about that if I were him.”

Before Whisper could retort she heard a man shouting at someone. Barron got up and wandered towards the source of the noise, ignoring Whisper’s calls to just come back and sit down. After a few moments she begrudgingly decided to follow him. When she caught up she saw him standing between a poorly groomed man and some teenaged punk.

“Something wrong?”, Barron barely managed to say in his scratchy, often underutilized voice as Whisper came to stand next to him.

“Used to be an adventurer, like you two.”, the man complained. Inwardly Whisper groaned at having to deal with some washed up hack. If what Thunder said was true the Guild had far to many squatters already.

Continuing on the ex-adventurer said, “But look at me now: pitifully begging to survive and being bullied by this brat all the time.” Whisper briefly wondered why the man didn’t just fight the punk. If he had truly been an adventurer at sometime he should have at least a little combat skill. At first Whisper thought Barron would agree with her but in a rare occurrence the ends of the his eyebrows drooped down. He actually pitied the man. Barron looked over at her blankly and then tilted his head towards the brat for a moment. Not fully believing what her friend was asking she quirked her eyebrow. He nodded which caused Whisper to break out into a malicious grin.

“What are you tw-OWE!”, the teen brat screamed as Whisper kneed him hard in the groin. The teenager fell to ground and clutched at his pained vital regions. The ex-adventurer let out a hearty chuckle that almost caused him to fall upon the ground as well. However, the fun was soon over for the duo when Barron’s Guild Seal began to glow.

“Maze is looking for you in the Bowerstone tavern.”, the Guildmaster’s voice rang out from the Seal. Barron looked up at her apologetically. Whisper understood though. She knew that the one thing Barron sought was revenge against the people who stole his family away. She was lucky that his one track mind would go out of it’s way to make room for her in all honesty.

“It’s fine,”, she assured, “we'll be challenging each other over something again soon. We are rivals aren't we, Farmboy?”

He nodded, and just like that he ran off towards Bowerstone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get some Whisper/Barron friendship feels in before plot happened. Also Leo might be a recurring character for gags. Haven't decided yet.


	10. Bowerstone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For those of you who actually like this fanfic, sorry for the long delay. Life has been... hectic to say the least. Here’s three new chapters to make up for my absence.

Barron had admittedly gotten lost. Despite being taught how to read maps his lack of knowledge on the world outside the Guild made travel rather… difficult. It certainly didn’t help that the map makers of his time were known to take “artistic liberties” with their works. However, when Barron saw the bridge he knew he had arrived. He walked up to the large wooden gates and nodded in gratitude to the two tipsy guards who opened the city up to him without inhibition. The next guard was actually sober enough to do his job.

“Oiy, you’re new here, aren’t you?”

Barron’s only response was a simple nod. The man crossed his arms, possibly in an attempt to show off his longsword, and fixed a frown on his face. He looked at Barron suspiciously before he spoke again.

“We have some rules around here that you need to know about.”

Moving closer to Barron the guard put a hand on the young man’s shoulder. Barron almost flipped the man but restrained himself. He wasn’t one to like physical contact. At least he didn’t think he liked it very much. Could you blame him? Most of his life he was training, and that training often included being punched, kicked, or the target of “pointy sticks,” as some might call them. However, Barron could tell the man had no intention of hurting him, and allowed himself to be lead to an odd rack that lay on the side of the road.

“Bowerstone is a peaceful town - I will have to confiscate your weapons for now.”

Understanding what the man had told him Barron leaned his sword against the peculiar structure and hung his quiver and bow against a hook. As he did so the guard smiled in appreciation. Feeling much friendlier with the young man the guard began to speak once more.

“There are shops, inns, lots of different people, games - all kinds of things.”

Looking over at the bearded man Barron choked out, “Tavern?”

The man let out a deep rumble of a laugh and slung an arm around Barron’s shoulder, “It’s the building in front of you, just up the road here!”

Barron nodded and attempted to get out of the man’s grip. The guard however only tightened his hold as he leaned closer, much to Barron’s discontent.

Point towards a woman who stood at the steps of a mansion the bearded man warned, “Oh and keep an eye open for Lady Grey. Treat her with respect. She is the Mayor after all.”

Finally the man released Barron and went on his way. Barron let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding with slumped shoulders. He brushed the dust off of his shirt that the burly man had left behind. Taking a moment he looked back towards the woman. She wore a decorative, and very frilly purple dress, long gloves, and flowers in her hair. Barron quirked an eyebrow at the woman in confusion as she shewed away a peasant. In all honesty, the warrior had thought such clothing existed only in storybooks.

Shaking his head Barron ran towards the tavern. In the herd of drunken men stood Maze. The man’s back was against a wall as he watched the peasants stumble about in distaste. Barron pushed through the unbalanced crowd and stood obediently before the man who had saved him.

Peering down at Barron the man remarked, “Been enjoying all the attention, have you?”

Barron simply shrugged. He didn’t fully understand why all the other Heroes enjoyed the praise, or in some cases, scorn, that they got for their actions. In fact, he had found the crowd of people who swarmed him after he played pest control rather annoying. Despite this he gave the older man a smile, wondering if he had heard of the little adventure.

Nodding Maze said, “Yes, I’ve heard of your encounter with the Wasp Queen.”

As he said this two men from across the way began clapping and cheering. Barron gave them an unnoticed confused look while Maze rolled his eyes at their antics. Shaking his head the older man began to speak once more.

“As you can see most of Bowerstone is talking about it. But you shouldn’t let that kind of thing go to your head.”

“Anyway, that isn’t why I called you here. You see, there are dark forces gathering that put your giant insect to shame.”

Maze began walking away. Out of routine Barron raced after him, but stumbled when the man spoke again.

“Tell me, how much do you remember of the night I took you to the Guild? Of the raid of Oakvale?”

Noticing the way Barron’s pace slowed and the shell shocked expression on the younger man’s face he rationalized, “Not much I wager? A most terrible night.”

Once they were in a secluded enough place Maze continued, “I’d thought those bandits killed your whole family, and that you’d be next?

Barron’s scratchy, underused voice floated in the air, “You… said “thought”... what does…?”

The young warrior’s eyes widened when Maze next spoke, “It seems there may have been another survivor.”

“Your sister.”

When Barron heard this his mouth fell open in disbelief. It opened and closed repeatedly as he tried to choke out more words. However, his mouth felt much drier than it ever had, and the already difficult process of forming words became impossible. He blinked several times as he tried to will away the strange yet familiar burning that was spreading behind his eyes. He clenched his jaw tight, unsure what was happening to himself. Barron was thankful, yet frightened, when Maze spoke once more.

“I’m afraid it’s only a rumor, and there’s no way to be certain yet. But I thought you should know.”

Maze began walking away, ready to leave his pupil in a complete stupor, but then turned back to Barron after having already strided several feet, “And for pity’s sake, boy, make sure to replace that basic equipment while you’re here.”

The man then left Barron after being enveloped in his own magic, disappearing without a trace. For a while Barron just stood there, his body completely immobile from the torrent of emotions. Now, to say Barron was previously emotionless until this point would be nothing short of a lie. He had felt since the tragedy that motivated him had taken place, often in fact. However, he was not accustomed to feeling more than one at a time, let alone at such a volume. As Maze’s final words finally sunk in Barron shook his head wildly in an attempt to regain his usual composure. He then quickly made his way towards the closest blacksmith.


	11. A Brooch

Barron had been fortunate enough to find a Cullis Gate hidden within the walls of Bowerstone. Using his Will Barron easily sent himself back to the Guild. After he reached his destination he leaned on the Guild’s walls for support against the sudden wave of nausea. He blinked and focused his vision on the woman in front of him as she mumbled to herself.

“Ah, now this looks promising…”

Pushing himself off of the wall Barron walked over to the magical table, and subsequently to the red and black clad woman. As he was about to wave his hand above the table she turned towards him.

“Oh, hello. You must be the kid Maze is always talking about. Can’t imagine what he sees in you.”

Barron repressed an irritated growl as she continued, “Still, I suppose Maze knows best. But where are my manners?”

Barron certainly hadn’t a clue.

“I’m Briar Rose. No doubt you’ve heard of me.”

To himself Barron thought, “I have no clue who you are, please leave before I sever your head.” The young warrior was certainly trying not to do just that. The last thing he wanted was the Guildmaster breathing down his neck.

Briar Rose continued on obliviously, “No time for autographs, I’m afraid. I have to get to Knothole Glade for an important mission.”

As she walked away she noted, “Speaking of which, if you’re looking for a Quest Card, all the best ones are gone already.”

“I’m sure the Guild can find something for you to do though. I hear the kitchens need cleaning.”

Barron scoffed at the woman’s retreating back. As she disappeared through the Cullis Gate he couldn’t help but imagine what Whisper would have done had she been there. Staff down the throat? Explosives in the pants? Whatever it would have been, Barron knew the result would be as hilarious as it was gruesome. He walked up to the magic table and summoned the only card left. When he read it rage filled him to the brim and he stormed over to the exitway.

* * *

The one thing that annoyed Barron about Cullis Gates was that you had to have been to your chosen destination previously. This of course meant that traveling to Greatwood was taking some time. This in itself wouldn’t be so bad if everything wasn’t so calm. No highwaymen to fight, nor any rabid bears to slay. Just a peaceful path in a forest. At least until Barron ran into a familiar face.

 “So you’re going to do work down at Orchard Farm, are you? I knew that was your true calling.”

Barron smirked as he and Whisper stood stock still on the pathway. Shoulder to shoulder, but facing opposite directions.

“I saw Lady Grey set the opposite Quest in the Guild yesterday. Maybe I should pick it up.”

She could practically feel Barron’s smirk turn to a thin line as his gravelly voice rang out into the Autumn air, “But… they’re bandits…”

“Oh, I’m not betraying you or anything, Farmboy. I just thought this would be fun!”

As she ran off in the direction of the Guild Whisper shouted, “I hope you’ve been practicing. You’ll need all the experience you can get to beat me! See you later, farmboy!”

Barron turned so he could watch her retreat, he suddenly felt very uneasy.

* * *

As the warrior walked into Orchard Farm the owner ran up to him, “Thank Avo you’re here! I thought no one would answer our Guild request!

Gesturing to a few guards nearby the man continued, “I’ve arranged some more security to back you up, but there are so many bandits… They’ll tear my farm apart!”

Looking towards the barn the farmer muttered, “I wish we’d never found those damn stones. They’ve brought us nothing but trouble.”

“My wife Jenna won’t let them anywhere near the house, so we’ve left them in some crates at the barn.”

Barron peered into the barn at the crates within, “Cursed?”  
  


“Only Avo would know, but they must be worth a fortune! They say Lady Grey wants them. I’ve already lost three farmhands in these raids!”

Suddenly there was a large crash. Realizing what must have been going on Barron pushed the man roughly in the direction of his house, “Go… where it’s safe!”

The man stumbled as he tried to regain his balance. Once he was inside Barron could hear faint wailing. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out if it was from the man or his wife. Barron stood there with the burly guards, waiting for the bandits to surface. They came from the central entrance first. These bandits were clearly a distraction. They were flailing and hollering as they ran into the line of sight.

“Go,” Barron shouted, or at least his version of shouting, to the simpleton guards who just stood there as the bandits closed in.

As the fighting erupted behind him Barron ran towards the barn. Leaping up his hands caught the edge of the roof and he hauled himself up. He walked to the center of the roof crouched down. Scanning the area he saw no more bandits coming yet. As he turned his head to check on the guards he erupted into a small coughing fit. It wasn’t unnatural, he had talked far more than he was used to today. His throat was simply strained.

Beating his chest as he looked down at the guards he noticed one of the three bandits had gotten passed them. Barron pulled an arrow out of his quiver and shot it at the bandit as the man neared the barn. The arrow impaled the bandit, and with a scream of pain he fell to the ground. Barron heard war cries coming from the eastern entrance. Barron put his index finger and his thumb to his lips and let out a sharp whistle. The guards looked up from the fallen bandits. Barron made a few hand gestures, they nodded, and charged at the incoming enemy. Barron helped them from above, raining arrows on the bandits.

This continued for some time. Barron eventually ran out of arrows, having to resort to his lightning spell near the end. Everything went silent when the last enemy fell. Barron stood to his full height and looked around, waiting. He was honestly surprised she hadn’t appeared. She had said she’d take up the opposing Quest, yet she was nowhere to be seen. He took a moment to consider that maybe she had changed her mind. That is until he heard something hit the roof. Barron just barely managed to leap off of the roof before the small explosive detonated. Whisper descended from the trees, landing in front of Barron. The guards moved to attack, but Barron held up his arm to tell them to back down.

“Oh, so it seems you have gotten better.”

Pulling out her staff she continued, “I hope you’ve learned how to Flourish, because that’s the only way you’re gonna get close to me.”

Barron unsheathed his sword as Whisper took her battle stance. She launched herself into the air but he managed to roll out of the way in time. Bolting up Barron swung at Whisper, hitting her staff several times. No matter how many times he swung his sword Whisper continued to block. She also continued grin. Said grin only grew bigger, and bigger, as Barron continued to swing.

“I really am going to have to Flourish, aren’t I,” Barron realized internally.

Barron took a deep breath, and focused. Soon his sword was enveloped in a purple aoura. He charged forward, and this time when he swung he almost knocked her off of her feet. After this they were both attacking each other. Blade and staff colliding, and sometimes weapons against skin. Though they never hit one enough to cause any true damage, but they were bound to have a few nasty bruises tomorrow. Barron brought up his sword and hit her in the jaw with it’s hilt. She grunted as she fell to the ground.

“Damn it! You beat me! Again.”

As the guards readied to apprehend her she grabbed something out of one of her side pouched. Barron knew full well what it was, but made no effort to stop her. After all, she hadn’t actually betrayed him like he feared. She just had some fun, played a game, and lost. He watched silently as Whisper threw the small object to the ground. Unlike the guards, who freaked out a little bit, he stood stock still as smoke erupted from the ground.

“Huh? Where’d she go,” one of the guards asked. They both jumped when her voice came from the trees.

“I suppose this quest is yours then. But you can’t stay lucky forever, farmboy. We’re bound to meet again, and I’ll be ready.”

Barron shook his head at his rivals perceived dramaticness. He was snapped out of his thoughts by whooping and howling. Looking towards the small cottage he saw the farmer and his wife run out and charge him. Before he could do anything they were hugging him. He openly tried to shake them off out of discomfort they remain oblivious to his duress.

The farmer shouted, “You did it! I can’t tell you how thankful we are!”

The man let go of Barron and explained that someone would be picking them up, and that they shouldn’t be having any more trouble from then on out. Throughout this the farmer had an oblivious grin on his face as his wife all but threw herself on Barron. The young warrior, being as socially inept as he was, wondered if this was the woman’s failed attempts at attacking him. The farmer patted Barron on the shoulder and smiled again.

“I’ll be sure to tell everyone about you. We need more people like you in this world.”

“Like me,” Barron wondered to himself.

Before he could work up enough strength in his throat to ask the farmer handed him a small sack of money, and he and his wife returned to their home. Barron looked at the sack for a moment before shrugging, and tossing it into his empty quiver. As he was about to leave something caught his eye. Something small and metallic caught the gleam of the setting sun. Upon further inspection Barron found that it was very familiar indeed. He picked up Whisper’s brooch, a small golden thing, and pinned it to his shirt. It must have fallen off his rival during their battle.

 **  
**Certainly she’d be appreciative if he returned it later.

 


	12. Eyes of a Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So… depending on the person, this might not be suitable to read due to it having darker content then the last few chapters. However, it’s kind of mood-whiplashy so it’s not extremely dark or anything. Sarcastic for the most part. Seriously, minus the darker parts, this is mostly a joke chapter...

Barron couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t even meant to grab that Quest Card, it was an honest mistake. His hand had slipped when another Hero distracted him. He didn’t want to do this mission at all in the first place! Yet here he was, taking on one of the most loathed types of adventures a Hero could ask for. The particularly annoying part was that he had been searching for Whisper. He hadn’t found her anywhere in the Guild, and none of the other Heroes had known where she was. Barron had even went so far as to ask Leo where she was. The merchant had gotten frustrated with the younger man for holding up the line. Barron still hadn’t the foggiest clue as to what the man sold.

“Look, kid, I don’t know where she ran off. Now move along and go on a quest or something. That’s what you warrior types do, isn’t it?”

So here he was, babysitting two dimwitted traveling merchants. Oddly enough, that wasn’t the biggest struggle he had to deal with today. Earlier he had to deal with a highwayman who had been blocking his way. The man had offered to let Barron pass for a price, or to cut his head off. Barron took a third option and decided that the head cutting would be done by himself, and against the highwayman. After the man had fallen cold other bandits descended from the trees. There were at least a dozen or so if them, and part of the forest, along with Barron’s clothes, had ended up scorched by magic flames as Barron thinned them out. Truely, the fact that he had to deal with that just to get to two bumbling idiots was enough to make anyone irritable.

“We have to get to the Barrow Fields at the other side of Darkwood,” one of the travelers explained.

“You lead the way. We’ll be right behind you,” the other announced.

The first one spoke up again, “The quicker we travel, the better. There are unnatural things in these woods.”

As the man said this a ferocious, blood curdling wail came from the forest. Truly, the timing was perfect. The two merchants clung to each other in fear. Meanwhile Barron found himself shaking his head at the duo. Despite the obvious dangers Barron couldn’t bring himself to be fearful. With his courage still intact he lead them through the forest. They hadn’t gone more than a mile when they happened upon a mustachioed man clutching at wound.

Looking towards the trio the man cried out, “Help! Something bit me and left me for dead. Please, allow me to go with you.”

“We can’t let him follow. He’s infected! He’ll be eating our guts before we know it,” one of the merchants said fearfully.

“We have sworn a trader oath. We have to help him,” said the other.

“Oath,” Barron asked with a quirked eyebrow.

He went unheard as the fearful merchant continued to plead, to leave the man behind. The mustachioed traveler tried to bargain, saying he had money. Barron looked back and forth between the two merchants and the traveler. On one hand, something did seem off about the traveler. On the other, if his father were here, Barron suspected that he’d be told to bring the man with them. That it would be wrong to just leave someone in these dangerous woods. With a sad sigh Barron extended his hand to the traveler, which was happily accepted, and hauled the traveler to his feet.

“Thank you, Hero. I’m very grateful.”

Barron watched the man with wary eyes as he went to stand next to the two merchants. Despite his unease Barron continued to trek through the forest, the three men never too far behind. Eventually one mile became two, and two became four, and four became eight. Eventually they had to stop, the three men being unused to such a long travel. The merchants lit a fire, ready to cook as the light started to disappear from the sky. That was when Barron sensed it.

In his rough voice he commanded, “All of you, stay here.”

The men were surprised by the order, but did as they were told. He sped away from them, hopping over large, gnarled roots, and fallen trees to the source of this wicked feeling. However, he slowed to a near crawl when a clearing came into view. He moved into the brush, using a thorn bush as cover. Peering through the vines of the bush he saw a creature he had only read about in books.

The beast was covered head to toe in fur. It’s limbs and torso were peculiarly human like - And it’s head, wolf-like with a jaw full of jagged teeth, only served to make the creature more uncanny. Barron watched as the beast, the Balverine, tour at it’s prey’s intestines. The man underneath the creature laid there, and allowed the beast to consume him in a way only someone touched by death could. Barron, not looking to get bitten, moved to return to his band. His plan had been to simply lead them around the Balverine, as he believed one, already deceased human would fill the creature, should it’s focus stay on the corpse. Unfortunately, a twig cracked underneath his foot.

The Balverine’s head snapped up away from the dead man. It’s glowing, yellow eyes now visible as the beast sniffed the air. Slowly it turned it’s head towards the brush knowingly. Thus Barron locked eyes with the creature that had haunted his nightmares as a young child. He stared into the piercing eyes and was not afraid, but entranced. Using it’s mighty legs the Balverine leaped into the air and landed directly behind the young warrior.

Barron whipped around and sent a flaming ball directly into the face of the beast. It howled in pain it lashed out at him. He quickly ducked, allowing the beasts long, disjointed and clawed fingers get tangled within the thorny vines. Running behind the beast as it struggled for freedom Barron unsheathed his sword, and let the slade plunge itself into the skull of the beast. He put his foot against the Balverine’s spine and pushed so that he could dislodge his sword. The battle had been unnaturally easy, and all Barron could do was look at his bloodied sword in shock at the ease.

“I can’t believe it,” yelled a familiar voice.

Barron head whipped around to the source of the voice. There, standing no more than ten feet away, were his protectorates. Anger flared within Barron once he realized they had disobeyed his order.

“I told you to stay put,” he reminded harshly.

Once again his words were ignored when one of the travelers said, “He slayed one. He really slayed one!”

Most of the rest of the journey had been uneventful, at least for Barron’s standards. At one point they had to travel through a marsh with man sized, exploding mushrooms. In all honesty, that had to have been one of the odder things Barron had ever seen. It was also hilarious as one of the men kept walking into them, causing him to be flown backwards into mud, or occasionally another mushroom. Yes, Barron’s job was to keep them safe, but he wasn’t about to allow himself to go boom in order to protect them from their own stupidity.

The next area they had traversed was much more difficult. There were bandits every which way they turned. Luckily Barron was able to overpower them, despite their superior numbers. By the time the full moon had risen the band had located the campsite that merchants and other travelers would use to recuperate. They stayed there for some time, eating, bandaging wounds, and even trading a little. However, they left rather quickly after that… Only to encounter more bandits. Let’s be honest with ourselves, if more bandits were able to come up with actual strategies rather than charge into battle mindlessly, there is chance that every Hero and their mother would be royally screwed. Fortunately, a large percentage of Albion’s bandits were utterly stupid, making an easy chore for Barron. What was to come next was shocking, yet completely expected for the genre savvy.

The mustachioed man toppled over in pain, “Ugh! It burns! My b-blood… feels like it’s boiling!”

“I warned you! I warned all of you,” screeched one of the merchants.

The man’s body grew larger with every second, his clothes tearing with each added inch. Horrid, unthinkable noises came from the body as bones broke and reformed. The man opened his mouth to scream in pain, but his jaw unhinged. His skull cracked under the pressure of the transformation, only to reform into something unspeakable. The creature coughed blood as it approached Barron on it’s mutilated, still changing legs.

Extending it’s crippled looking hands it begged, “Please… Please...”

Before Barron knew it, his blade had lashed out. The head of the beast fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud. The body following it soon afterwards. Barron looked at the creature, a thing that had once been a man, and felt something he couldn’t place a finger on. Perhaps it was pity? He couldn’t be sure.

He looked over to the two merchants, “Let’s go.”

Before they could take their leave however, the ground began to shake. The dirt beneath their feet began to rise and the merchants screamed in fear. They jumped off of the ever growing mound and ran for cover. When an arm of stone burst forth Barron flipped off the newly discovered enemy. He turned and staring down at him was a monstrous earth troll.

With a roar the mighty troll lifted it’s stone arm into the air. Barron made to run but only got a few feet away when the large arm made impact to the ground. The resounding force of the collision sent Barron flying forward. Barron quickly got up to his feet, and just barely managed to dodge a flying bolder. He sent a fireball hurtling towards the troll as it attempted to grab another boulder. The troll didn’t even register the attack and it heaved the boulder into the air with it’s mighty arms.

Diving to safety Barron yelled, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

The battle went on for what had felt like ages. The troll’s health chipped away slowly. The more it’s drive dwindled, the more it’s body crumbled. By the end of the fight it’s rocky skull had become nothing but dust. Finally, as the morning sun rose in the sky, they had made it to Barrow Fields. As a reward the two merchants gave him some money… and feathers.

Much later in the day Barron found himself getting extremely drunk with one poor unsuspecting Leo.

“That’s why you don’t take those sort of Quests,” the dark haired man had said unhelpfully.

 **  
**“I know!”


End file.
